


We Don't Have to Dance

by fanficwriter013



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Arguing, Depression, F/M, Heavy Angst, I swear it has a happy ending, M/M, winter soldier resurfaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficwriter013/pseuds/fanficwriter013
Summary: Nat sets Bucky up on a blind date that he's convinced won't go well. Can you surprise him?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	We Don't Have to Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Reader is unisex, inspired by the Andy Black song We Don't Have to Dance.

Bucky wasn't sure why he had agreed to this in the first place. He knew he wasn't anywhere close to being ready to date. Let alone a blind date. But he knew better than to tell Nat no, especially when she had told him about it when she had been cleaning her knives.

He was currently as hidden away as this restaurant dance place could manage, while he could also see at least three exits. Only one of which involved literally jumping out the window. It seemed like everyone in this place was tossing him glances, dirty looks, double-takes. He was the infamous Winter Soldier after all. A smaller voice in his mind tried to remind him that he'd been a victim, but he had been too aware of everything. All the blood on his hands, the gallons of red in his ledger. He wasn't sure he could ever wash the blood off his hands.

Just then two people walked in, one was looking towards the bar while the other one looked around. Nat had made sure this was a true blind date, all he knew was your name. But he was damn sure that one of these newcomers was you. Your eyes locked with his for a moment, then you turned to your friend. It was too loud in the bar, but he was sure that you were whispering about the Winter Soldier sitting in the corner booth. The hostess chose that moment to block his view of you, and your friend. But it became blatantly clear that you were his date. Your friend headed for a seat at the bar, and you approached him slowly.

"James, right?" You asked him, smiling softly at him. Since he was still caught up in whatever gossip you'd just exchanged about him he just nodded and you slid into the bench across from him.

"Alright, look. I know you don't want to be here. You looked at me, you saw him and I was probably responsible for the death of your third cousin or something like that. So, we don't have to talk. We don't have to dance. We don't even have to sit together. You can go join your friend at the bar. I'll stay here for another fifteen minutes and then I'll leave. We'll go our separate ways, tell Nat this didn't work but thanks for trying." He'd gotten increasingly more worked up as he talked. This was actually hell, he was sure of it. He'd never be able to heal, he'd never be past him. He could never become James Buchanan Barnes again. You, however, had remained cool, collected, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Are you done with your presumptions about me?" You asked him, quirking one eyebrow. When he didn't answer you, you continued.

"Okay, you've had your angry rant. Now it is time for my rebuttal. I'd like to kindly ask that you don't interrupt me." You paused for a moment, clearly asking for an answer. So he gave you a curt nod.

"First, you don't think Nat, and Sharon actually, vetted me thoroughly. I'm SHIELD through and through, in case you didn't know. Nat wouldn't send you into a bear trap. Second, yes I did come in here with a friend, see you, whom I knew was my blind date today and then turn to them and say something. That something was about how it isn't fair that you look like Michelangelo’s David, but with that jaw so chiseled and sharp. And that manbun that shouldn’t work, but just made you look soft. And don’t even get me started on those eyes. Like how is that blue even legal?

"Finally, yes the Winter Soldier is responsible for the death of a couple of my fellow agents. But let me say this again. The Winter Soldier is responsible. Not you, James Buchanan Barnes. You are a victim. A victim of manipulation, and unfair science. You could not control what they made you do, the cocktail of drugs that coursed through your veins made absolutely sure of that.

"So, what do you say that we start over? I'll go back outside and come back in and we can have a nice date, huh?" Bucky was now sure this was hell, that he was dead and being tortured. You’d leave, and not come back. Or you would come back, only to scream at him.

“I saw that. This isn’t a trick, and yes your face betrays you. Close your mouth, you’re beginning to look like a fish on land and it’s subtracting from those perfect features.” He hadn’t even been aware that his jaw had apparently dropped. But here you were, telling him it had. Acting like some sort of literal Angelic being. 

“Do you wanna call Nat? She can go over my details with you if you’re still unsure. And yes I was a psych major, you kinda have to be, to be a spy. But I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you. This isn’t work, this is pleasure. You know, flirting with a cute person, dancing. But only with consent. Making jokes, healing, socializing, being human. Being happy, everyone deserves happiness.” He wasn’t even sure how to deal with you, you were perfect. And that absolutely meant that you were too good for him, he was thoroughly broken. A mere shade of who he had been born, a monster for decades, and now. Now he didn’t even know. But he didn’t want you to leave, that much he knew.

“Can we have that do-over?” He was surprised at the voice that left his own throat. It didn’t sound like him, or well. He didn’t know who he was. Maybe he was the man behind this soft, and unsure voice asking for a second chance, after apparently, quite literally, looking the gift horse in the mouth. Your face broke out into a bright smile, a genuine bright smile.

“Of course we can. I’m never anything less than genuine.” And Bucky was starting to believe that, that maybe he could have a chance at healing and happiness after all. “I’ll be back in a moment.” You said, sliding back out of the booth. He watched as you walked away, pulling out your phone, no doubt to let your friend know what was happening. You walked back out through the door, wandering slowly along the row of windows. You stopped just before you were out of his sight, and turned around. You came back in, bypassing the hostess stand, and approached the table.

“James, right?” You asked, an exact replica of how you’d approached him earlier. Your smile much bigger and brighter now than it had been earlier. He nodded again, and you slid back into the booth you had occupied a minute ago.

“(Y/N), then?” He asked tone back to something resembling how easily he had been able to flirt before the war. Before the wars. You gave him a sly smile and nodded. “And, please call me Bucky. That’s what everyone else calls me.” He continued, leaning full tilt into this, well it wasn’t bravado, but this moment of braveness. The resulting smile dazzled him into a state of breathlessness. Maybe Nat was meant to be a matchmaker and not a spy.

The two of you had been able to salvage the rest of the date, or rather it was more than salvaged. Bucky enjoyed himself, and you obviously had enjoyed it too. Since you’d gotten him to dance to one of the few slow songs, and had been no stranger to closeness. In fact, you had pulled him against your body, glancing up to make sure he was okay before being tucked in against him. Like you had been his missing half. Then at the end of the night, which happened to be when the place was closing you had suggested exchanging numbers. And Bucky had never been more relieved at that moment that he had agreed to a smartphone. He handed you his, and you had given him yours already open to a contact thread that said Bucky followed by a red heart. He wasn’t exactly versed in these emojis, but he knew that was a good sign.

“Don’t be a stranger, Bucky.” You said after he handed you back your phone and you tried to subtly smile at his contact freshly saved. “Feel free to text me, anytime. I don’t mind calls either if you’d prefer that.” You said, giving him another bright smile. One that almost made him feel wholely human again. But he also noticed that it looked like you were either holding back from asking something, probably if you could kiss him. Based on the way your eyes were quickly darting back and forth between his eyes and lips. Or holding back from just doing it. Which given how careful you had been with his consent, with the dancing, with conversations, you probably were either talking yourself out of the action, or into asking for consent. He was going to beat you to it.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He asked, soft unsure tone back. A brief moment of shock danced across your face before it was replaced by that wide genuine smile. You took a small step closer to him and nodded. That was all he needed, he used his flesh hand on your hip to pull you snug against him and captured your lips with his own. It wasn’t for long, but it was long enough to make Bucky hopeful. That he could move past the Winter Solider, and find himself again.

“It’s always sexy to ask for consent,” You said, as you pulled back but didn’t remove yourself from his embrace. Now it was his turn to smile, which he didn’t even realize was happening until it had.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to go, even though I don’t want to. But I have work, and that requires getting up in,” you paused, eyes flicking over his shoulder to look at the moon. “About three hours, I’d say. And my recruits already think I’m too tough on them. They’d hate to see me on anything less than an hour of sleep.” Your tone was super light, almost as if you wanted to make it impossible for him to get anything other than you were joking out of that.

“Wouldn’t want the recruits to suffer.” He agreed, loosening his grip on you. Which hadn’t been all that tight, to begin with, he was still very much afraid of his metal arm and its connection to softness, so he’d had you almost entirely with his good arm. You kissed his cheek and took a step backwards.

“And remember. Don’t be a stranger, I obviously don’t sleep much.” You said, holding up your phone and pointing at it before you turned and walked away. He stood there for several long moments, still dumbfounded by how you had been able to handle him. Although, as he thought it handled wasn’t the best choice of word. You weren’t just putting up with him, you genuinely seemed to enjoy his company. Even if he had tried to run you off before he had even given you a chance. That was how he found himself texting you while he was walking home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things with you had been so easy. For one, it helped that you knew exactly who he had been but didn’t look at him like that. The monster that he learned to keep separate now. Nat hadn’t been happy to hear that he hadn’t trusted her date choices, but she’d been more than thrilled to hear that he was going to see you again. The next day, and even every day for a week after that. You’d gotten scarily close, and here you were about four months later all but living together. In your apartment of course, since his was threadbare but had been getting better with his intensive therapy sessions.

Bucky knew he was in trouble, the kind of trouble that was a four-letter word that started with L and ended with an Ove. It was in the small things that you did. You always checked with him before taking his hand, you’d slept on the other side of the bed so that his metal arm could be away from you. You understood when he would suddenly shut down when he needed his space. But most importantly you never looked at him with pity. You also understood that sometimes work could be unpredictable since Steve would force him to help him out on some missions. You were never mad if he left mid-date, pre-date, in the middle of the night, whenever. Because you had to do it too.

The deeper he fell the more panicked he felt. He could feel it, him, stirring, and he wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t talk to anyone about it, or well he supposed he could tell you. But he didn’t want you to look at him like he was tainted. The deeper he fell, the more he fought Bucky, seemingly for control. He couldn’t hurt you, he’d rather die than be the force that hurt you. But what he was going to have to do was worse. He was going to have to destroy the two of you, make you see him as a monster so that he could keep you safe. And that was Bucky him, not Winter Soldier him.

That’s why he was sitting at your kitchen table in the dark waiting for you to come home after your latest mission. He stared blankly off into space, trying to memorize all the times he had made you smile, that he had made you laugh, that you had been tucked so perfectly into his side. Because he was going to make you cry, and he didn’t want to remember your face like that.

He heard you coming long before your key hit the door, you pushed the door open. Barely making it through the door, you were so exhausted. You dropped your bag next to the door and headed into the kitchen turning the light on. You jumped when you saw a man in your apartment, but smiled widely when you realized it was him. That wouldn’t last.

“Hi, honey. What are you doing sitting in the dark?” You asked, moving around him to get into the fridge. Your usual after mission routine, come home eat, and then pass out.

“We have to talk.” He said, tone even, flat, robotic. Like it had been when he had been the Winter Soldier. You stopped rummaging around in the fridge, and he heard the door close.

“Is this about moving in? Because I could make you a key, that isn’t a problem. I have my lease on this place for another year. So, we couldn’t move out of here and into someplace together until after that.” You’d moved around to sit down at the table across from him. You looked so tired, you weren’t even processing what he was saying to you.

“No, this isn’t about moving in. This is about moving out, moving on. There is no us, (Y/N). There never was, and there never will be.” He snapped the words at you, almost like throwing knives. And he could see where every single word had hit you. The carotid, the jugular, deep in your heart. The pain was evident on your face, and you reached across the table before pulling back.

“No, Bucky. You don’t mean that. What’s going on? I can help, but you have to let me in.” You were begging, and that was pathetic. That wasn’t Bucky, that was a brief overshadowing of the Winter Soldier. But he could use your begging.

“That’s the problem. You think you can fix everything, but you can’t. And let’s face it. Some things aren’t meant to be fixed. I’m not some toy that you can just mess around with until you sew up my seams again, (Y/N). I’m a human being, and you can’t fix me.” He knew that wasn’t what you were trying to do, but he needed you to think that’s what he thought. You watched him for a moment, then stood up.

“You can leave then.” You said, pointing towards the door. “I’ll have Nat and Sharon bring you your things. But you, you can leave now. Since I’m just another puppet master to you.” You didn’t even wait to see if he left, you turned and headed into the bedroom closing the door behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he inevitably became the Winter Soldier again, it didn’t even surprise Bucky. He’d woken up at the Avengers compound, stalking through the halls and causing general destruction. He wasn’t sure how they would stop him but they knew he would. Bucky realized that he was heading in the general direction of the hangar bay. That couldn’t possibly be good. If he stole a quinjet, they wouldn’t be able to stop him. He was vaguely aware of talking, but it sounded like it was underwater and he was only catching what seemed like every other word.

Then he knew that he wasn’t alone with him in his mind anymore. There was someone else poking around, and it hurt. His body felt like it was on fire, every single nerve was firing, distressed, and trying to fight. He thought he heard a voice, telling him not to fight, but he couldn’t be sure of anything. Aside from the fact that soon he’d be in so much pain that the darkness would consume him. It did after what seemed like an eternity, welcoming him in like an old friend.

The next thing he was aware of was the smell of bleach, the hospital. Or medbay, he guessed. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet. He could also hear breathing, although it was only one person. His bets would be on Steve. When he cracked his eye and saw Sam sitting in a chair near the foot of his bed he almost passed out again. This didn’t make sense.

“Well, welcome back to the land of the living and unpossessed.” He said, standing up and smacking Bucky’s legs. Bucky didn’t say anything, only now noticing that he wasn’t in handcuffs like he should be.

“Don’t worry, Wanda, have you met Wanda? She’s got hella powers, found the triggers words and your mental parasite, and excised them and him. It’s just you up there. How does it feel?” Sam asked, picking up a tablet and handing it to Bucky to show him his charts. Not that Bucky understood most of it. Now that he’d been told this, it did feel like he had more room in his mind. It didn’t feel so cramped and fragmented anymore. But he also knew that you weren’t here, and he missed you so much he thought his heart might actually break.

“My mind physically feels better, but I’m so broken I don’t know how to fix it. The only person who would be able to help me through this hell is (Y/N). And I made damn sure to push (Y/N) away when I felt him stirring. I just want to hear (Y/N)’s voice.” Bucky said it was the truth. You were his person, his one, and only. And you were sure to be thoroughly gone. Sam went towards what Bucky had thought was a closet and opened the door.

“Well, you’re in luck. (Y/N) and Nat figured it out, but it’s not my story to tell. So I’ll just leave you two to it.” Sam said the closet had opened into a hallway where you were waiting. You were avoiding looking Bucky directly in the eye, and he knew he deserved that. Sam nodded at you as he passed by you and disappeared out of sight.

“(Y/N),” Bucky said, earning a brief moment where you looked up at him. It went away, as you stepped hesitantly into the room, closing the door behind you and resuming the silent defeated posturing.

“I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Hell, I don’t even deserve you, but I’m sorry. I did what I did to protect you. I could feel him, and I knew he’d have control. And with how much time we were spending together. It would have happened when I was with you, and he wouldn’t want me to be happy. And then I’d be killing you, yeah I know it would be him. But it would be because of me. And I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, because I love you. And that would have destroyed me. So instead, I pushed you away to keep you safe. I know I don’t deserve it, but could you at least forgive me. I thought I was doing what was best.” He was rambling, and no amount of words would ever be able to make it up to you. The way you had looked at him. How he had made you feel like just another handler to him. Now it was his turn to not look at you. He couldn’t watch as you decided to turn him down. To not forgive him, to walk away from him for good. And just him, not even the both of them.

“Are you done?” You asked it didn’t sound the same as when you had asked him on your blind date that Nat had set up. And your voice had come from right about his shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to check, instead, he nodded and intently stared at a portion of the hospital blanket.

“You cannot scare me like that ever again. Do you understand me?” You asked, voice a hoarse whisper. Now he turned to look at you. Your eyes were bloodshot, and watery but watching him intently.

“I thought I had lost you. And I am most definitely not strong enough to go through that again. I knew it was him, I knew I could help you before he got loose. But you refused to let me in. I went into my room, climbed out the window, and went to get Nat. Who was rather indisposed at the moment that I walked into her apartment. Good thing it was just Sharon, but still. Well, once Nat stopped cursing at me in Russian. She was able to calm down enough to look through your mission health statements, those include FRIDAY brain scans every time. And she was able to figure out that there was abnormal activity. And then she went to Bruce, who was like. Looks like me and Hulk. So we were like, Winter Soldier, plus it helped me feel like I wasn’t crazy. That you hadn’t just been lying to me for the past five months, that we were in love. Then we went to Wanda, but he had already gotten you. And that’s why it hurt. Because she had to just divide and conquer. But I suppose that makes us even since you did hurt me. Even if it wasn’t entirely you. It was him slowly taking over. But you can’t do that to me ever again.” You had your arms wrapped tightly around your rib cage like you were afraid you would fall apart. Bucky wanted to just grab you and hug you. But he knew you weren’t back there yet. Even if you had mutually used the L-word.

“Come here, crawl in with me, please.” He said it was closer to begging quite honestly. You looked at him for a moment before crawling into the bed with him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

“I will spend every moment of every day that you allow me to be in your life, making it up to you. You’re my person, I love you. And I will make this right because it’s just me. And just me needs you. I’ve got a lot of busted seams, and I’ll let you in every single one of them. We all deserve to be happy.” You sniffled against his neck, clearly crying again and he rubbed your back. He had a lot of red in his ledger to wipe out, but you were the most important. You shifted a little.

“No more bullshit. We’re equals, we’re partners. I’m an Agent just like you are, I could have held my own against the Soldier long enough for backup. I know you, Bucky. I’d have been able to tell it wasn’t you. If that’s what you’re afraid of. I couldn’t tell you and the monster apart. I can. I have always been able to. I saw you, who you really are. But you didn’t see me. Every step of the way you questioned me, it, when the other shoe would drop. I told you that we all deserve to be happy that very first day because I saw you. Bucky, not him.” You pushed away from him standing back up and moving toward the door again. Bucky sat up, stomach feeling like it had fallen onto the floor. Was he going to lose you now?

“No, lay down. I just need some time. I’m angry, and you know I have every right to be. I’m not breaking up with you. Even though you’ve already done that. I just, I need some time.” You said, and he nodded. You had every right to be angry, hurt, to need time. To yell and scream at him even. He wouldn’t even fault you if you did break up with him. He should have trusted you, he should have let you in. Let you help.

“I was afraid you’d stop being able to see me.” He said, and you stopped in your tracks. You’d been about halfway out into the passageway. “That if I told you he was here, that he was just beneath the surface bubbling and boiling like lava under a volcano waiting to erupt that you’d look at me like everyone else does.” You’d turned back to him now, that look he hadn’t wanted to see etched deep into your feature.

“That, that’s the look. You’d always been able to see the man and not the monster. What happens when you see both? You don’t like what you see, but you pity it anyway. That mix of hate, sadness, and oh poor you. You’d never given me that, and I was trying to keep it that way. I know I went about it the wrong way, and you’re entitled to take your time, to be hurt, angry, to scream at me if you want to. But that’s what I was thinking. I didn’t want you to stop being able to see me.” He said, using his flesh thumb to pick at the skin on his flesh ring finger. You walked back over to him, slowly pulling his thumb away from his ring finger.

“Honey, I have always been able to see you. Remember my psych major, there was a neuro minor in there too. It’s not medicine, but I know enough. I could have helped. How long did you know he was there? How long did you hide him from me?” You were tapping your fingers against his palm. Something you’d done when bored, or agitated. Bucky didn’t need to be a genius to know it was happening because you were agitated now.

“He started to stir after that first week. Apparently awoken by my happiness.” He grumbled, and your tapping stopped for a moment before starting again. He could feel your anger rolling off you in palpable waves of heat.

“And you didn’t think to tell me about it? When I could have had months to prep, and plan. You instead, what, lead me on, leave me, and were just going to let him out? Why?” You asked, tone sharp, like the one he had used with you in your kitchen. “Did you really think that you weren’t worthy of happiness, of love, of a future, of me?” With each ‘of’ you stuttered a little and a tear fell onto his flesh hand. Bucky didn’t know how to fix this, and he desperately wanted to.

“There’s more blood on my hands than a human body is capable of holding. My ledger holds gallons of red. And you are this actual Angel, that Nat found and thought would be perfect for me. And you are. But why should you have to be stuck with me, who some might call an actual Devil?” He could hear your shuddering gasp before he felt it. You took that moment to crawl back into the bed with him, wiping your face on his ribs.

“Because we’re both broken, you idiot. We just go about it in different ways. I channel everything into being stupidly positive, whereas you isolate and go all dark and twisty. You don’t think I have red in my ledger too? I do, I was working for HYDRA without even knowing it. Some of those SHIELD missions, completely HYDRA. I’ve killed my fair share of innocents too. We’re both broken, just in different ways.” Most of this had been close to mumbled into his ribs, where a portion of his shirt was becoming increasingly wet. His whole body ached for you, wanting to take your pain away from you. He realized now he was rubbing your back, soothingly, and you hadn’t tensed. Maybe he could still get that happy ending you kept promising him.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I was an idiot. We both need therapy, what about couples therapy?” Your head had picked up a little at the word honey, and your face twisted a little. His stomach sunk, this was it. This is hell, the moment where this was over.

“That, that’s the look.” You parroted back at him, he deserved that. He had given you the look, and you didn’t deserve that from him. “FRIDAY, can you call Dr. Gottman, or maybe Tony’s already vetted someone.” You said, looking up at the ceiling, furiously wiping the backs of your hands across your cheeks.

“You’ve got weekly appointments set up with a one Dr. Webber.” FRIDAY’s cool response came back, and you nodded before nuzzling back into his side. He must have tensed because you put your chin on his chest looking up at him quizzically.

“I already told you I wasn’t strong enough to lose you again. No matter how you went about trying to keep me safe.” You spat out the word safe like it was corrosive and burnt your tongue. “We’ll need the sessions to be able to move past this.” He could feel his face light up, he wanted that so very much he didn’t even have the words to be able to describe to you how he was feeling.

“This is going to sound so lame, but. Thank you.” He said, and you nodded. You propped yourself up a little more on his chest, several emotions flitting across your face as you tried to decide what to say next.

“You’re an idiot. But I guess you’re my idiot.” You said, and he would gladly be your idiot if that meant he was yours.


End file.
